


Leather Patches

by xogillete



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Ravagers - Freeform, Redneck Space Dads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 23:37:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2288834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xogillete/pseuds/xogillete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Ravagers don't forget Peter, and he certainly doesn't forget them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leather Patches

Peter swivels in his seat, legs dangling as he plays with the height adjustment lever. He makes faces in the mirror in front of him while Yondu and Kraglin talk to another Ravager with pink skin. He's been aboard the ship a year now and doesn't freak about the various alien races that make up the crew anymore. The young Quill notices his distinct features in the reflection; fierce violet eyes and gill-like ridges that line his high cheekbones. His hair is black and shiny, swept up around the sides and slicked back on top. Very Elvis, he notes. Peter recalls his mother saying The King was incredibly famous, and wonders if the rock and roll star's hip style traveled outside his planet.  
  
Yondu swats his shoulder, scolding him about how expensive the chairs are and not to fool around on them. Peter huffs in response, sticks out his tongue when he thinks he's not looking. He catches him though, and it gets Peter a rough tug on his ear.

"So Xarias, think you can fix this?" Yondu takes a handful of the boy's locks and pulls. Peter whines in protest, but the captain hasn't payed much mind to him since he sat down. Blue fingers squeeze and slap at his face like he were some sort of display dummy.  
  
"I think I can," the man replies, "but I need to know what you want me to do with it."  
  
Yondu pauses, eyes roaming the room as if he were looking for something. Then, "Cut it all off. Leave nothin' but his scalp."  
  
Peter's head jerks toward them, his voice frantic. "No!"   
  
Kraglin laughs, tussling a hand through Peter's blond hair. "C'mon now captain, boy'll start datin' soon. He gets a cut like yours and he won't get any kinda action."  
  
"Won't have time for no girls." He scoffs.  
  
"How about boys?" Xarias chimes in honestly.  
  
"Won't have time for anyone if he's bald, poor kid."  
  
"Okay then, Obfonteri," Yondu says through gritted teeth,  "what do  _you_  think we should do with it?"  
  
Kraglin looks down at the boy, who's parted lips and wide eyes show he's truly concerned about the fate of this haircut. The first mate clicks his tongue and shrugs. "What kinda cut you want, Peter?"

"Can't I just keep it the way it is?"  
  
"No deal, boy." Yondu says, clutching his shoulder. "You one of us now. You wanna wear the red, you gotta fix your head."  
  
"But Horuz keeps his long! And so does Goark! And–"  
  
"I ain't askin' you who keeps a brush handy, runt," Yondu hisses, his nails digging deep through the leather jacket. Peter can feel them beginning to prick at his soft flesh. "You gon' get your hair cut today, whether you want to or not. Now hurry up 'n tell Xarias what you want."  
  
"How 'bout a Tail?" Kraglin suggests.

"What's that?"  
  
"We take a creature of your choice, sever its tail and attach it to the back of your scalp." Xarias explains. "With proper care, it grows just like your hair does. It's very popular among young children."  
  
Peter grimaces, feeling his breakfast gurgle in his stomach. "No thanks."  
  
Yondu's eyes narrow. "Clock's tickin', boy."  
  
He looks at his reflection once more, entirely uncertain. He doesn't want to cut his hair, but he doesn't want his shoulder pierced, either. He glances up at Kraglin, who nods and awaits his decision.  
  
"I want it like his." Peter murmurs, pointing a finger to the first mate.

The Xandarian grins, and it's obvious he's flattered by the gleam in his eyes. "You heard him, Xarias. He wants a dragon's mane."  
  
"Dragon's mane," The captain repeats with a hearty laugh, "only kids call it that. S'called a single. Alright then Xarias, go 'head 'n work your magic."  
  
The pink barber smiles again, wrapping a black cape gently around the boy's neck. "One dragon's mane, coming right up."

* * *

  
The Ravagers don't hear from Peter too often since he went and saved Xandar. A few of them question Yondu's favoritism for the boy and how easily he was tricked into getting a decoy orb, but a curt whistle keeps them in line. Yondu never was too mad about the whole thing. Peter cheating him out of a deal just proved that deep down, he'd always be a Ravager.  
  
During holiday times, however, Peter makes solo visits to catch up with his twisted brothers. He drinks till he passes out, stuffs his face in the comfort of his old home. He plays the old tapes he use to blare on the ship as a child and the pirates make it a game to see who remembers the most lyrics. Yondu wins often. He says its because they were constantly on repeat, and that they haunted his dreams even when the boy went up and left. Peter knows he's full of it, though.  
  
He's introduced to new recruits with every visit. Some with potential, others with a death wish. All crooked men, perfect for the position. When he notices that a few men aren't present, Peter always asks about them.

"Pazi?"  
  
"Settled down. Went on 'n fell in love, the wimp."  
  
"Good for him." Peter comments, remembering that Pazi had been particularly irritable and not very easy on the eyes. "And Eliuk?"  
  
Kraglin throws a somber look to his captain, who ducks his head in response. "Went missing on the job. Captain had us search for a bit, nothin' turned up. Ain't heard from him in months."

Peter's brows raise in concern. Eliuk was a specially skilled pilot, a favorite among Yondu's skeleton crew. A search party wasn't held for just anyone on the ship. "No way? Dang. You guys...I mean, do you think he–"  
  
"He's fine, I know it." Yondu says flatly. "Prolly just took a break from things. You know how he gets."  
  
A smile tugs at Peter's lips. Yondu always had a weird sense of hope. He looked out for not only him, but all his men, like they were more than just numbers. He saw them as family, whether he'd admit it or not. "Where's Xarias?" He runs his fingers through his hair, patting the sides. "I could use a trim."  
  
The captain shakes his head and sniggers. "Bastard got himself famous. Has himself a shop in Krylor." 

"Heyyy alright, Xarias! I'll have to stop by when I head out. Who took his place?"  
  
Kraglin smirks. "Me."  
  
"Damn good at it too," Yondu says, patting his second-in-command hard on the back, "boy's got a knack for it. Always knew he was good with a blade. More ways than one, I guess."  
  
Peter looks equally proud, his arms folded. "Is that true, Kraglin? You the best of the best now?"  
  
As red faced as he's always been, there's a noticeable rosy tint on his cheeks. His gaze falls to his boots. "I guess."  
  
"How's about you fix me up instead then?"

* * *

  
The chairs seemed so much taller back then. A bit of the mirror has shattered, but it's in decent condition for its age, and the fact that it's on a pirate ship. The height lever doesn't work anymore, and Peter thinks it's probably his doing. He tore the lever off one of the other seats once when he was still just a kid. It's a funny memory. Yondu whooped him pretty hard that night.

Kraglin drags the same old black cape and ties it loosely around his neck. He brings up a device that looks a lot like a fancy pair of clippers. It buzzes softly when he turns it on. There's an eagerness that lingers when he rolls up his sleeves to begin. "Just a trim then?"  
  
Yondu stands in the doorway and watches. "Hair's so long you could braid it, Quill. Go on 'n getcha 'self a full cut."

"I don't know. What do you think, Kraglin? Think I should go all out?"  
  
He shrugs. "S'your hair."  
  
"You still go by the old style names?"  
  
"Sure do."  
  
Peter pauses, tapping at his chin as he thinks it over. "Give me a dragon's mane, then. You know," he smiles, looking over his shoulder, "for old times' sake."  
  
Kraglin doesn't say a word, just grins and nods knowingly as he gets to work. Yondu rolls his eyes. "Dragon's mane." He utters under his breath, chuckling. "Boys haven't changed a bit."


End file.
